Drawings of Demons
by The Moyashi Beansprout Midget
Summary: Allen's been able to see demons for a while now. He's always tried to warn others about them. However, he just gets shunned away by everyone at his orphanage. So, he turns to his drawings instead. AU
1. Drawing 0

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Katsura Hoshino's.**

**Something random. AU. Idea came while I was working on a school project.**

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Demons.

What were they?

Creatures that manipulated the mind of a human?

The root of all evil?

The reason darkness even existed?

Something made up by those of the past to explain mysterious phenomenon?

However, the one thing in common most explanations out there have is simple:

they can't be seen by humans.

Right?

No one knows what demons are exactly, if they even exist. Some think of them as horned creatures with a craving to kill humans. Others see them as evil spirits. Many even think of them as the result of a human becoming too mentally unstable, and letting such things as depression start to take over. A few may even think of demons as being 'unscientifically possible'.

How wrong they all were.

How wrong humanity was.

If only they could see...see the hell he saw.

What demons REALLY were.

What they looked like.

How they acted.

But, no one ever would. He knew that. After years of trying to convince the adults that watched him at the orphanages and the other kids around, he realized that they instead shunned his warnings. They never listened.

Instead, the others took it as a joke; as if it were a game he played. The other kids laughed. They pointed at him, cackling till they fell over or holding their sides. He was left out of their games. Sometimes, though, they let him play.

As long he was hurt in the process.

Even the adults, the ones he was told could be trusted, disliked him and turned away. Doctors came and tried to cure him. Priests and pastors came to try and 'exorcise' him. But, none of that worked.

The women in the cafeteria, that worked to prepare the food, even forced the boy to now stay in his room whenever he ate, since his room was separate from the rest of the kids. Then, the nurses would always scowl and be hesitant to touch him when he got injuried, which was often, as if they would gain the same curse he carried.

The curse that caused the boy hell.

The curse that allowed him too see demons.

Yep.

_DEMONS_.

He could see them, no matter what time of day or location. Each person had at least one demon. In fact, the boy was sure he was the only one without a single demon.

The demons had no real apperance, however. Normally, they floated around their specific person's body as a black and white skull head with a single letter printed on the forehead. This letter was normally the first letter in the person's name, as some sort of forshadowing.

However, the boy quickly learned as well that some have more demons than others. In fact, from his isolated room, the boy often stared down at the street, watching the people walk by, counting how many demons followed them. It was his only pasttime.

One time, he saw a single man with ten demons surrounding him like shield. That man must've become very evil for that to happen: the more a person welcomed evil into their hearts, the greater amount the demons would control the person's mind.

But, when the boy wasn't doing that, he either played with his miniscule amount of toys or drew, something he learned to do in his days in his small room. He enjoyed drawing the things he saw and did in his dreams: he thought it was cool, after all. But, the nurses always disliked how he always taped them to the walls of his abode. They always complained how they 'cluttered up the place'.

The drawings were always very similar to one another. Usually, the boy drew himself wielding a large, white left arm in place of his disfigured, barely usable one that was blood red and was described by the nurses as 'the arm of Satan'.

The boy used his special arm in his dreams; though. He was older, and had the same white hair as he currently did. Although, for some reason he always wore the same long, black coat with white stripes and cuffs. And, there was always a large red scar along his left eye, starting at a pentacle and snaking its way down his cheek.

The boy would then continue to go around his dream world, destroying the demons with his special arm. He loved doing this. In fact, he felt happier in this dream world of his than in real life.

But, as far as the boy knew, real life was just him suffering through the same taunting and exclusion he recieved every day. He would return to his room and draw the things he did in his dreams, and then fall asleep, creating new things to draw.

However, the boy always had hope. He knew someday, someone would finally believe him. Finally believe what he said about demons and would enjoy his company and wouldn't exclude him. He would find...a friend.

Someday...**_maybe_**...

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**Just some random AU One-shot. Main character's Allen, in case you didn't pick that up. Reviews are appriciated!**


	2. Drawing 1

**Huh. You all seemed to like this idea a bit...so here's another chapter. I actually gave this some thought...and have a small plot-idea-thingy...just depends if you all like it...**

**Thanks to Yuki Walker~ the Kistune, Miss T the Bookworm, Natsuki D., kurie-tibiti, Baltimore, and the unknown Guest (you are now Guest-chan, FYI. You know who you are.) for the reviews! **

**Disclaimer: Katsura Hoshino's. Not mine.**

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Three knocks ring out against the bedroom door, pounding to grab the attention of the room's occupant. However, the room's occupant does nothing, and leaves the person standing on the other side of the door without a response.

"Allen, can you let me in? I have to change your bandages!" a cheerful female voice chirps from the other side of the door. However, no response is given.

The lock on the door starts fidgeting around until something inside it comes undone. The door then swings open, a young woman holding a large medical kit and a small key walking inside of the bedroom. Placing the key back into her pocket, she closes the door and immediatly scans the room for its occupant. The woman then spots the occupant, a young child, sitting at their desk by the window to her left.

The child was actually a young boy, something that most people wouldn't believe from first glance, especially since his hair was a pure, snowy white.

The boy whirls around in his seat, a partially-broken wood chair, to look at his unwanted guest, his grey eyes gleaming in what little sunlight shone in the room.

"Ms. K! I thought you said you wouldn't use the spare key anymore!" he exclaims towards the young woman, watching as she set her large first-aid kit down onto the boy's bed across the room.

"I said I would only use it if you didn't open the door," the young woman, whom the boy had labeled Ms. K, replies, flipping open the kit's lid and pulling out some white medical bandages and tape. "And someone didn't answer the door,"

This young woman had dark chocolate brown hair, tied back at the nape of her neck with a large red ribbon. She, like all the other staff at the orphanage, wore the same short, black dress-and-white-apron uniform.

The young boy smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his head in embaressment. "I-I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you!" he apologizes as Ms. K goes over to the desk the boy sat at with her supplies in her arms, looking at the paper the boy had all of his attention drawn too.

"You were drawing again, weren't you?"

The boy, noticing her gaze, suddenly flips the paper over and places his hand on top of it, turning a small shade of red. "D-Don't look! It's not done!" he says over-protectively, frowning.

Ms. K lets out an exasperated sigh, smiling to herself as she shook her head. This boy always did this whenever she tried to look at his drawings. So, with a single motion, the young woman takes the boy's hands and examines the bandages.

This was the 9th time this month the poor boy had gotten into a fight; a fight that the boy never started. In fact, the boy's injuries always came from the same beating and name-calling he recieved every day from the other kids his age at the orphanage.

Why?

Because, this snow-haired, kind, boy could see demons.

DEMONS.

When the boy started telling his peers about his strange ability, they slowly realized what he was talking about. So, to 'avoid Satan's curse', they started to shun this boy, and made fun of him. When the adults in charge of the orphanage found out about this 'curse', they immediatly called in anyone they could. Priests. Therapists. Psychics. The higher-ups wanted to fix the boy, since they thought he was delusional.

But, no matter what anyone tried to do, the boy always talked about the demons, and how he could see them. How they were real, and how they were always around.

Eventually, the higher-ups decided that no adults in their right minds would want to adopt 'the spawn of Hell', and separated this boy from the rest of the kids. He got his own room, the attic, 75 percent of the space was being used for storage, and ate his meals in his room. They even assigned the boy a single worker to be his link to the rest of the orphanage.

With that, the poor boy was mostly isolated from the rest of the building, and the rest of the world. However, there were some days he left his room, escaping the leaking, moldy attic for fresh oxygen. Those were the days the other kids took the chance and hurt the boy; tried to injure him. And, usually, they succeeded.

So the rule went the orphanage followed; if a child was not adopted by the age of twelve, they were sent away, either to another, larger orphanage or to a foster family. Why? Because the outer suburbs of London was a very busy place. New batches of orphans were coming in almost every week. Space was very limited. However, usually anyone by the age of ten was adopted and sent to a loving family.

Usually.

The boy was one week away from his twelfth birthday, actually. Everyone, even the boy, was waiting for that week to pass. After that, well, the boy didn't know where he'd end up. Probably back on the streets, where he started. But, the boy didn't care. He would be free of being beaten everytime he left his room, breaking the 'quarentine'. Free of the name-calling. Free of the stereotype he had fallen into.

Demon spawn.

Ms. K always wondered, ever since she was assigned to be this young boy's link to reality, to the rest of the world, if the boy cried. She'd heard the things the other kids called him. How terrible they were towards him. Sometimes, she would cry herself, hearing the sour words that were spoken. But, she never saw the boy cry.

Not once.

Examining the boy's hands, the young woman notices the bandages on his right arm were still slightly fresh with blood, while his left arm's bandages were ripped off and coming undone.

"Allen, did you do this?" Ms. K asks the boy, Allen, concerningly, looking at the boy with an icy glare.

"N-No ma'am. The ones on my left hand came undone on their own. It got ripped because of the desk..." Allen answers quietly, frozen in place at the woman's deadly glare.

He glances over at his desk, which was they only fairly new piece of furniture the boy had. However, the desk was still very used, and hard sharp pieces of wood sticking up like needles and cracks running throughout the material.

Ms. K nods her head, understanding the boy's explanation. She lets go of the boy's left arm, and lets it fall back down to his side.

Unraveling the white medical bandages, she starts to undo the partially-crimson ones on Allen's right arm, keeping her eyes solely on her task at hand. However, her mind was darting around in thought as she remembered the boy's left arm.

Allen's left arm, when he was born, was underdeveloped and became very weak to use. All he could do with it was the simple motion of bending and moving his fingers. However, as he got older, Allen learned to cope with it, and started to rehabilitate it.

But, the other kids thought of Allen's arm as something cursed, something that was related to his 'demon-spotting'. So, they tried to do something about.

They set it on fire.

She hadn't been there when it happened, since she just came out of college, but from what Allen described to Ms. K, it was nothing he had ever felt before.

He managed to get the fire out, with the help of some staff, but the scars and burns from it never went away. Now, the poor boy's arm, from his lower shoulder to fingertips was a blood red color. The veins inside it were popping out from everywhere, and his fingernails were a dark black.

Tucking in the last of the bandages, Ms. K takes the old, blood-stained ones and places them on the floor. She then reaches up to grab the roll to redo Allen's left arm, but he stops her instead.

"My left arm isn't injured. It's fine." the snow-haired boy says quietly, holding the young woman's hand away from the roll of bandages. "See?"

Ms. K nods her head. "I know. But, even though there's one more week left, I still need to care for you until then." she replies, smiling as she removes her hand from Allen's grasp. Reaching over and picking up the dirty bandages, the brown-haired woman stands up and places them in the bedroom's garbage can, full of old medical tape and balled up pieces of paper.

"That's a hefty amount of defects," Ms. K remarks, looking from the garbage can and back at Allen. "Have you run out of ideas to draw?"

Noticing his aid's gaze, Allen quickly turns a light shade of red in embaressment, scratching his chin. "No...I just felt that the pictures weren't portraying everything correctly..." he replies, trying to hide his shyness.

Not long after Allen was quarentined to his attic-room, he started to draw. He started out by sitting by one of the two windows in the attic and sketching what he saw. However, drawing crowds passing by a five-story building became boring, so he decided to do something else.

He drew what he saw in his dreams, of course.

Ever since he arrived at the orphanage, Allen always has the craziest, most bizzare dreams anyone could ever describe. He never told anyone about them, except for Ms. K (she was the only person the white-haired boy trusted).

In his dreams, the small demons he saw during the day became large, gun-wielding machines at night that hunted humans like eagles hunted their prey. At the first sight of a person, rounds of bullets would be shot, killing a human almost instantly.

Why, you may be asking, would Allen enjoy drawing such horror?

It was because of what Allen did in his dreams that made him happy.

Inside the boy's dreams, he was a much older and taller version of himself, probably around the age of fifteen. He always wore the same long, black coat with white cuffs and stripes, keeping the hood pulled over his head. And, his left arm, his deformed and burnt arm, would turn into a large white claw that was double the size of his normal arm, extending almost to the ground.

And with his special arm, Allen could destroy the demons, saving both humans and demons from any sort of disaster.

That was what Allen drew.

He drew himself destroy the demons. Saving humans.

Drawing helped Allen cope with the terrible way he lived, and help improve his left arm's limited mobility even more than his secret ability of gambiling.

Gambiling?

Let's save that for another time...

"What's happening now, then?" Ms. K decides to ponder even more, nodding her head towards the paper face-down on Allen's desk. Protectively, the snow-haired boy places his good hand on top of the paper.

Hesitantly, Allen gathers his thoughts together.

"There was a mother walking with her young daughter. Three of the machines came out, and I barely made it in time before they opened fire." he explains, recalling his memories. He even steals a quick glance at the blank-side of the paper.

Nodding her head, Ms. K takes the medical bandages in her grasp and heads back towards the large first-aid kit on Allen's bed. She closes the case, snapping the two locks together, and picks it up by its handle. With one hand grasped around the suitcase and the other holding dirty bandages, Ms. K makes her way towards the bedroom's door.

Turning the doorknob through the bandages, she opens the door and steps outside, into the staircase.

"Wait-"

Whirling around, Ms. K notices that Allen was now standing in the doorway, holding onto the doorframe with his left hand.

"Ms. K, your nineteen, right? Can't you adopt me?" the snow-haired boy asks, a tone of nervousness suddenly worked into his voice. His eyes showed fear inside them, as if he were afraid of something.

The young woman sighs, bowing her head sadly. "Allen, we've discussed this. I can't. I'm still too young." she answers sympatheticaly, sadness hidden underneath her words.

"B-But...I...I don't want to end up...on the streets...but...I-I don't want to be here anymore...!"

Allen's remaining hand balls up, his fist shaking as his head lowers in shame. "I...want to leave this place...I want to go to a place where I'm not made fun of...or shunned...or burned...or anything! I...I want to have friends!"

Hearing the poor boy cry out his wishes almost broke the young woman's heart into two, especially with how his life had been so far.

"Allen..." Ms. K starts, trailing off. She lets her first aid kit sit down by the staircase, letting out a sigh. Dropping the bandages beside the case, she walks over to the boy and bends down to his level, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"I can't adopt you, Allen. But, I'll do anything I can to get you to a place where you will be safe and away from this treatment." she says quietly, so quietly that only Allen could've heard her.

"Thank you..."

Removing her hands from the boy's shoulders, Ms. K recollects her items she previously held and continues down the staircase.

"Oh, and I'll bring dinner by as soon as it's ready!" she adds, disappearing down the stairs, her voice echoing until she could no longer be seen.

Nodding his head, Allen turns and walks back inside his bedroom, closing the door behind him as he did so. Locking the door again to continue his isolation by himself, he walks over to his bed and flops down onto it. The boy then buries his face into the pillow he used to sleep on.

Slowly, the fabric of the pillow becomes damp, covered in the tears Allen sheds in silence.

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**A/N: How 'bout it? Reviews tell me how you all like this.**


	3. Drawing 2

**A/N: Have to fume: Fairy Tail Chapter 416. Called it.**

**xXxPhantomxXx: Update's right here!**

**Sora Rider: More chapters are on their way!**

**Natsuki D.: Dark!Allen isn't in this. Only normal Allen. And Allen's new home will be revealed right here!**

**Orangetabby101: I'm glad reading this made your day!**

**Baltimore: Thanks for the long (awesome) review! Now, as bad as Allen's luck is, I'm not putting Ms. K through an accident. She's staying how she is. Now...my only question for you is...where did you get the idea that Allen could sing? I'm...pretty sure I never mentioned that...unless you read something a different way than I did. So, sorry, but Allen can't sing...although...that does sound cool. And, I know exactly what Lala's lullaby is...I listen to it every day on my playlist...and tear up every time...**

**And, to answer Star Angel 7169's question about Allen's artistic ability: He's fairly good. His level of ability is where if some random person saw it, they'd be all 'wow, your good' but not 'OMG YOUR AN ARTIST WOW'. Also, Allen still sucks at drawing people. Especially faces.**

**And thank you to all ma favorite-tors and followers! Appreciate all the love ya give meh.**

**Disclaimer: Katsura Hoshino's. It it were mine, Allen and Lenalee would be canon already.**

**(There aren't any pairings in this story. I'm just an AlLena fan!)**

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The sun had only been up an hour when Ms. K came and knocked at the door once again the next day.

Allen, who had already been up working on another one of his drawings, one of himself versus two other demons, paused and went over to answer the furious pounding on his bedroom door.

Why was Ms. K so rushed? Was she nervous? Scared? Anxious? Either way, it was something important, since she NEVER pounded the door this much before.

Turning the lock in the doorknob, the door is quickly flung open, the worried nurse racing inside, poor Allen being caught in the door's path and becoming flattened against the wall by the wood.

"Allen? Allen!" the dark-haired woman asks, looking around the bedroom before noticing the slowly closing door, where the boy in question was rubbing his nose.

"Yes?" he responds, removing his hand from his tender nose.

"You won't believe it!" Ms. K exclaims, pure delight shining through her expression as she explains her reasoning for barging into his room so quickly. "I found you a place to stay!"

The white-haired boy's eyes widen.

"...Wha..." is about all he could manage before he clasps his mouth in shock.

Was this happening? Was this REALLY happening? Had he really heard what Ms. K said? After all of these years, he was leaving this hellhole? Saying goodbye to the isolation, and the lonely bedroom, and the almost-abusive treatment for good?

It sounded too good to be true.

The boy walks out from his place by door, surrounded by an aura of disbelief. "Really? I'm...leaving?" he asks quietly, his unruly head of hair covering his eyes. "Even though its less than a week before my birthday?"

Ms. K only smiles, tears bordering the edges of her eyes. "We leave today. I'll be driving you to your new home." she answers. "So, pack your things!"

Allen nods his head, with what seemed to be laughter starting to build within his throat. "Too bad I have nothing to pack," he jokes, laughing slightly at the irony of his situation.

Lifting his bowed head up, Ms. K sees something she had never seen in her three years of service at the orphanage: A single tear, not one of sorrow but of joy, escapes Allen's left eye.

"Thank you...thank you...so much..."

_Everything was so sudden._

_One minute, he and Mana were in the taxi._

_The next, sprawled across the street in a carnage mixed with glass, blood, and bent metal._

_The black-and-gold car he was riding was crushed; the driver laying dead within his seatbelt, slumped over the wheel with a large piece of his head missing. _

_His legs were surrounded by the twisted metal of the wrecked car, but his size worked to his advantage and he managed to scramble out of the wreckage with only a large, deep gash in his left cheek and plenty of other wounds that could result in som serious hospital time, but nothing lethal._

_The same could not be said of his father._

_All that he could see of his adoptive guardian was the large amounts of blood seeping through the broken metal, and the single, almost blank expression on his face. It was showing through where the window once was, the man's hand out-stretched as if for the boy to pull him out. However, there was also a truck plowed through part of his body, slicing him almost cleanly in half._

_Why? _

_Why had this happened? _

_What did he do to deserve this?_

_Mana...why did he die?_

_Why..._

_Slowly, the boy falls backwards, staring at the eerie expression of his deceased father, who stares back in silence._

_Mana..._

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Allen didn't really have many things to pack, to be honest. With his whole 'isolation from humanity' order he was under, never got any of the new things sent to the orphanage every month. However, there were a few times Ms. K would steal some stuff and give it to him. Most of the things, however, were pencils, paper, or an assortment of coloring utensils.

But, what Allen owned beside his drawings supplied was very few in numbers, but a few was better than nothing.

He had about three pairs of extra clothes, underwear included, a blanket with stars on it, and a small yellow bear. Yes, Allen was going on twelve and still had a teddy bear, but he didn't care. Everything else in his 'room' was owned by the orphanage, so even possessing something as small and as silly as a stuffed animal made the boy's day. He even went as far as naming it Timcanpy.

Once finished gathering his hefty amount pencils, markers, colored pencils, erasers, and giant pile of paper, the snow-haired boy packs them all into a large backpack he stole from the items hidden in the attic. He also fits in his clothes, and Timcanpy as well.

Of course, when Ms. K came back after recieving the papers from the person in charge of the adoptions itself, she immediatly noticed something was lacking.

Poor Allen, who had lived in the same old t-shirt and shorts deal for the past four years since he had been at the orphanage, was going to walk out into the rain without a coat.

So, Ms. K did her own rummaging through the orphanage's stash in the attic and managed to find a good, green coat and some much longer pants, forcing Allen to change into them before they left.

Then the situation arose when Allen realized he'd be going outside of the orphanage, for the first time, with his left arm all burnt and scarred. Worried, Ms. K then found an old oven mitt for the boy to use, and threw it down to him.*

With Allen now prepared to face the rainy enviorment, and large crowds for the first time in four years, Ms. K leads the boy out of his bedroom, something she rarely did.

"This will be the last time, right? The last time I have to be in this room?" Allen asks as they leave, looking over his shoulder and at the only home he had really remembered.

Ms. K shakes her head. "I'll make sure you never come back here, Allen," she chirps, cocking her head sideways as she smiles.

Seeing his aid's smile, a new fire is ignited within Allen's soul, one that gave him the confidence he would need to be able to walk out of this place and into the world beyond a leaking attic ceiling.

Readjusting his backpack and grasping his blanket tightly, the snow-haired boy slowly starts down the stairwell, following Ms. K who was a few steps ahead of him.

Slowly, as they reached the different floors of the orphanage, Allen looked inside the different rooms, each holding different ages of children and genders. He saw them playing together, conversing with one another. They seemed so happy; no one ridiculed one another.

Why was he, then?

However, as they passed by the room Allen would've stayed in, some of the boys inside took notice of the snow-haired boy's rare appearance, and immediatly ran to the door.

"Hey, its Allen-"

Before anyone of them reached the doorframe, Allen was gone, his coat's hood pulled up over his head as he continued swiftly down the stairs. He wished to avoid the ones who treated him so badly, no matter what. However, there was one boy standing by the door, one that Allen didn't recognize.

The new boy had dark brown hair pulled back in a sort of mullet-style style, light blue eyes, and a large band-aid that sat in center of his forehead. The boy smiles, giving him a thumbs up.

Taken by surprise, the white-haired boy smiles back, and then continues his journey to freedom.

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Once outside, Ms. K guides Allen to her car, which now sat parked in front of the orphanage. And as she opened the back door for him to jump inside, he stole one last glance at his home for the past few years. Then, with great joy, he jumps into the back seat of the car, placing his bag on the seat beside him.

Ms. K walks around to the other side of the car, gets in, and switches the ignition on. The car's engine hums to life, and all of the green, blue, and red lights appear on the dash board.

The young boy quickly becomes very impressed by the sight.

"Woah! The car lights up!" he exclaims, jumping up from his seat and glueing his eyes to the dash, zooming close enough that he could touch the radio controls with his nose.

"Allen, put your seat belt on!" Ms. K exclaims, noticing the young boy's sudden facination with her car's controls. "I told Mr. Lee that we'd be there at eleven and no later!"

Frowning, Allen sulks back into his seat, looking for this 'seat belt' that his aid was talking about. When he finds it, he grabs it and pulls a couple of times, trying to figure out what to do with it. He then finds a little box sticking out from the seat, and plugs the belt inside it, where it clicks.

Hearing the seat belt's click, Ms. K then puts the car into drive, and maneuvers out of her parallel parking and into the street, her speed slowly picking up as they slowly moved farther and farther away from the orphanage.

Allen watches them drive, keeping his eyes glued to the building until it left his perihperal vision. His attention then turns to the road ahead of them, and to the weird voices he heard coming from the car.

"Who's that?" the snow-haired boy asks curiously. Looking up at her mirror to see her passenger, Ms. K sighs.

"Its called a radio," she explaisn quickly, pointing to the button the snow-haired boy pressed with his nose. "They play music, news updates, weather reports, and even sports games over the air for drivers to listen to,"

However, she quickly notices that her explanation was not sinking into the boy's head.

"Sports...news updates..." Allen mutters to himself, trying to comprehend these new words he never heard.

Ms. K shakes her head, a smile creeping through. "You really act like you were raised during the 19th Century, you know." she remarks, her eyes returning to the road as she takes a left.

Although, the way Allen had been living it wasn't surprising that he was reacting to technology the way he was. When you grew up to being a beat-up orphan isolated in a room containing only paper, pencils, and a bed, this would probably one's first reaction as well. But, the way Allen didn't even know what sports were...he would have a long way to go before he was back in society, that was for sure...

"Ms. K, what are sports?"

The young woman lets out another sigh.

This was going to be a LONG car trip.

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***Dies of feels**

**This was actually harder to write than I thought. I wasn't planning on writing anything about Mana in the first place, but when I realized that Allen's hair hadn't been explained yet, I had to throw something in. And for some reason, the first Mana bit was especially hard for me to write. I had to keep stopping every sentence to try and stop the feels that kept constantly attacking my heart. It was terrible...**

**Reviews will tell me if this is crap or not. Please tell me your opinions.**


	4. Drawing 3

**Oh my god...I can't believe the reception this is getting! When I first posted this, I didn't expect anything from it! Heck, I didn't really have a plot! But, after having a week of early releases at school, I was able to discuss this story with my friend animebud926 and figured out the start of the plot! **

**Life story over, all I can say is thank you to my reviewers, favorite-tors, and followers! Arigato!**

**Yuki Walker ~ The Kitsune: Thank you very much!**

**XHikariSoraX: So, you found this story too...well, I didn't want it to be depressing...but it just turned out that way. I feel so mean to poor Allen!**

**Isolation: A thrill? Really? Wow...you like this a lot...**

**Tokyo10: Yeah, not gonna lie, that whole Mana part made me really depressed afterwards. I had to got watch two and a half hours of Ouran High School Host Club to get rid of my sadness. Funny thing, I wasn't planning on writing about Mana AT ALL until a little later in the story.**

**Guest-chan: Thank you for your wonderful words of encouragement!**

**tenkoku: That taxi driver though. And, was it good that I got disturbing images in your head? **

**Disclaimer: Katsura Hoshino's. Not mine. If it were, Chaoji would've died in the Ark and wasn't brought back to life.**

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"Police forces are swarming all over London today after receiving a call last night over what appears to be a murder. The call was made at about 1:30 early this morning, where the caller claims to have seen three teenagers slaughter up to eleven victims in the center of the street. While police remain at the scene for investigation, many are searching the downtown area and the suburbs, looking for the three wanted killers..." the young news anchor reports, video and images of the scene she described appearing on the TV screen. Brushing a few blonde strands that had come loose behind her ear, the woman continues on with her story with little hesitation.

"According to an eyewitness, it is said that there were two young men and a young woman responsible for the horrendous acts this morning..."

Shaking her head, Ms. K tsks the TV. "How terrible. Teenagers becoming murderers..." she mutters, looking up from her magazine and at the young Allen beside her.

The traveling duo had only just arrived at the location of Allen's new home not to long ago, only about ten minutes. Once he had arrived, Ms. K then had to explain exactly where they were, since she didn't tell the boy in the first place.

Rose Cross Hospital, she had said slowly, was his new home.

Hearing the word 'hospital', Allen was quickly thrown for a loop. The expression he wore when he heard the news was one of shock, but there was also some sadness, and betrayal.

You sent me to a mental hospital, he replied, his disappointment starting to build as tears formed around his eyes. You didn't believe me.

It took Ms. K at least fifty tries of saying 'I believe you' to calm the poor boy down. When he first arrived at the orphanage, and spoke of the demons, the adults in charge threatened to send him to a mental hospital. Allen knew this, he always had, and it became one of his worst fears.

But, for it to come true...that had just crushed what was left of his heart.

However, when Ms. K explained that her friend, Komui Lee, was incharge of the building, and how he would watch over Allen, it calmed the boy's nerves. He wasn't getting any medication, or needles, or therapy. He was staying himself.

Cue the sigh of relief.

Now, Allen sat in the third floor waiting room, watching the TV in the corner of the room as it spoke about murders, crimes, and weather reports. It was odd, hearing about how these crimes were taking place and no one knew how or who commited them. Especially since he knew exactly who was commiting them. Well, not exactly, but he got a good idea. How?

The demons that Allen saw during the day, the ones that just appeared as black-and-white skulls, surrounded a single person. The more demons/ skulls that surrounded a single person, the worse their heart became as it was tainted by the demons. Eventually, if too many demons were circiling a single person, it either resulted in a mental breakdown, suicide, or a demon becoming the new host of a person's body. Recently, Allen realized, the last result was happening more often.

However, every single culprit responsible for a crime, be it burglary or arson, had at least two demon-skulls that followed them around. The skulls represented the slow takeover of darkness in one's heart.

"Ms. K, will I see you again? After today?" Allen asks hesitantly, deciding that the TV wasn't very good at keep a silence barrier. On top of that, it was the one thing the snow-haired boy had to know before he left for good.

Lowering her magazine and looking over at the boy beside her, she smiles. "We'll see each other again at some point. Maybe I'll come by sometime and pay you a visit!"

The delight in Allen's eyes was something that the young woman would cherish forever.

This boy, she knew, didn't have much in his unlucky, tourtured life. In fact, he never had friends while he was at the orphanage, she knew that for sure. But, from the way Allen had acted just on the way into the building, Ms. K could tell his social interaction skills needed some work.

Suddenly, the door of the small waiting room opens, causing both Ms. K and Allen to jump in their seats.

In walks a young man in his early twenties max, wearing a long white coat, bunny slippers, and what appeared to be a white beret. Glasses sat on the crook of his nose while he drank coffee from a mug with a pink rabbit. His hair was an odd shade of dark purple, something that was a very uncommon sight, even in modern times.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," the man chirps, directing his message to Ms. K, who immediatly recognizes the stranger. "I had to finish something..."

"No problem Komui," Ms. K replies sympathetically. "I know your a busy man, especially since your running a place like this. Thanks for taking some time out to help Allen around,"

The stranger, Komui, Allen supposed, nods his head in response as he sips his coffee again. "My schedule doesn't allow me to show him around the entire facility, but I leave that to the others," he finalizes. "But, I can give him a quick tour,"

"I really appriciate it," the dark-haired woman thanks again. She then looks back at Allen, who is now sitting with his head staring down at his lap. "Allen, get your things. Mr. Komui Lee here is going to take you to your new room."

Slowly, the boy looks up and at the man his aid had mentioned, smiling meekly before bitting his lip in shyness. He then proceeds to get his backpack and blanket, the only things he had from the orphanage, and gathers them up.

Standing up, Allen slings his bag over his shoulder, holding his blanket tightly against his chest with Timcanpy's head sticking out of the folds. He was very hesitant to leave Ms. K's side, especially since the last time he did that, he was beat up and almost knocked unconscious. How could he just trust this 'Komui' without even knowing him?

"A-Am I gonna be...by myself?" the boy asks nervously, keeping his eyes glued firmly to the floor.

Allen's question, however, catches Komui completely off guard.

"What are you talking about?" the dark-haired man exclaims. "You'll be sharing a room with three other kids. Why would you be by yourself?"

His answer strikes the snow-haired boy with surprise, so much that he lifts up his head with a large smile on his face. He wasn't going to be alone. He was going to meet people...to be friends with them! He was going to have a true friend!

"Allen, I have to leave," Ms. K says, noticing the time on a nearby clock sitting on the wall. "You can handle yourself, right?"

Althought Allen nods his head in reply, Komui just laughs. "Do you not trust me, Kailey?" he asks the dark-haired woman, smirking.

"It takes a LOT for me to trust you, Komui."

The beret-wearing man laughs again. "Don't worry. Allen-kun here will be in safe hands."

Nodding her head at her friends answer, Ms. K walks over to the exit of the office. "I'll visit every so often. You know, my missions get boring sometimes."

With that, the two young adults are quickly flung into their own conversation, one that consists of hushed voices and secrets that Allen couldn't hear at all. But, he wasn't paying any attention to that. He instead was watching the TV screen, where they were still discussing the earlier story about a murder.

"This is not the first time these brutal murders have been witnessed. Scotland Yard is still searching for a young man who has been accused of at least 28 murders in the London viscinity alone. No one knows his identity, even what his appearance is. His only atribute is the large white claw he uses in place of his left arm."

The news then shows a video, one shot through a shaky camera, instead of the normal blonde-haired news reporter. In the video, the camera focuses on the street, where three people stood, two at one end, one at the other. The single person had a large white object covering their left arm entierly, the details unclear because of the video's shakiness and its terrible ability to zoom in.

And suddenly, the single person charges towards the duo at the end of the street. The video glitches, and sudden the duo lays dead on the street, blood pooling out beneath their bodies as the white-armed individual stands over them, pulling on the hood that was already up over their head.

The video ends, and returns to the newscaster, who is now talking with the head of the police. However, Allen doesn't bother to listen to the interview. Instead, he's more worried about the video he saw.

The white-armed figure.

That was him.

There wasn't mistaking any of the actions that happened.

That was Allen.

He remembered completing all of the actions shown in the video.

In fact, he remembered the faces of those he 'killed', the ones he actually save by destroying the demon inside them, which had taken over each person's mind.

Then the truth really strikes him.

Everything he did...

All of the people he saved...

All of the demons he destroyed...

All of that...

Was real...?

**XxXxXxxXXxXxXxx**

Once Komui lead Allen to his new room, the boy was taken aback by the realization that there were four beds in the room instead of a single one. Each of the other beds were taken, so, he ends up taking the last one that was available.

The room was almost like a large box, with a single bed and desk claiming one corner of the room as their own. The two beds beside the door were claimed, and the one in the right back corner was taken as well. This let the left back corner, the farthest from the door, uninhabited.

Crashing onto the bed with only the message that 'the others would show him around', Komui claiming that he was too busy to do so, Allen just stared up at the ceiling.

Then, the realization hit him.

He wasn't at the orphanage.

He was at a mental hospital.

Mr. Komui never mentioned anything about medical treatment, or anything along those lines for that matter. In fact, Mr. Komui even forced Allen to stay away from that part of the hospital.

But, it didn't feel like a mental hospital.

Letting his bag lay on his bed, Allen looks around at the other occupied beds, each with their own different blankets and pillows. One bed had a blanket with lightning, and another with fire spread across it, and the pillow was halfway off the bed. Another had only black sheets, while the last had light pinks and greens.

Then, Allen procceded to look at his own bed. White. His bed was white, white sheets, white blankets, just...white.

The boy then unfolds his own blanket, laying the red and black plaid across the entirety of his mattress, creating a sudden pop of color. He left his bag on the floor beside his bed, only pulling out a pencil, a small sketch book, and a box of colored pencils.

So, he sat and he drew what he saw in the video on the news. He drew himself, wielding the large white claw that let him become the hero he knew he could never be.

Allen sits in silence, drawing quietly as he starts to forget about his brand-new enviornment, and starts blocking out any sounds he hears, including the creaking door of his bedroom.

Seconds turn into minutes, which turns into ten minutes, which turns into thirty. And within those thirty minutes, he was unintterupted, the silenceof the room and hallway outside calming the boy as he waited to greet his roommates.

"Oooh, what'cha drawing?"

Jumping, Allen quickly snatches up his sketchbook, turning it over and placing his hands on top of it. He doesn't even register the person now standing beside him, looking over his shoulder.

"N-Nothing!" Allen replies, turning a light shade of red in embarressment. He looks over then at this newcomer.

This newcomer had vibrant red hair that was shaggy and unkept, but it was pushed back by a large black headband. A single green eye shone, the other hidden by a dark, black eyepatch over his right eye. The boy wore a black shirt with sleeves to his elbows, and white shorts.

"When did you get here, newbie?" the ginger asks curiously, recognizing that Allen wasn't from the hospital.

"A-About thirty minutes ago, why?" the snow-haired boy replies, confused by the sudden question.

"See! We should've come back sooner!" a girl's voice sudden shouts from the opposite of the room. Both the ginger-headed boy and Allen look over at the source of the response, a dark-haired girl wearing a lilac colored Chinese shirt and shorts. Her hair was pulled into two shoulder-length pigtails, and when the sunlight from outside shined on it, it was a bright shade of purple.

"We came back late because the baka usagi here doesn't know how to wake up on time!" a last voice joins in. Looking over at the bed across from his, Allen sees a stern-looking, blue-haired boy with a light blue shirt and gray sweatpants on.

Looking around again, Allen quickly realizes that the two boys were older than him, not by much, maybe two years or so, but the girl was somewhere near his age.

"What's a baka usagi ?" Allen questions, hoping for an answer.

"It means an 'idiot rabbit' in Japanese. Kanda here tends to call Lavi that a lot," The girl responds, walking over to where Allen was, flashing a kind and friendly smile while pointing to who Kanda and Lavi exactly were.

"Yu-chan! Stop calling me that!" the ginger, Lavi whines to the blue-haired Kanda, who sudden glares death daggers.

"Don't call me that," the dark-haired boy mutters angrily, reaching over to what appeared to be a sword that was shealthed. Although, it appears it wouldn't be for much longer.

Pulling out a long sword, the older stands up and starts walking towards Lavi. Sensing the anger, Allen tries to keep the two boys apart from each other.

"Hey, that's not really sharp is-"

Suddenly, Allen found himself with the sword only inches away from his face, which he then observes that it wasn't sharpened, and that the blade was very dull.

"Shut up, moyashi."

"h-Hey! I'm not a...what ever that was..."

Suddenly, the girl perks up again.

"Moyashi means beansprout." she says quickly, and then backs away slightly.

Hearing the translation causes Allen's blood to boil slightly. He wasn't short, much less a beansprout!

"Either way, my name's Allen! Not 'Moyashi'!"

"What ever, moyashi." Kanda replies, ignoring the snow-haired boy's name and choosing to forget it.

"IT'S ALLEN!"

**XxXxXxXx**

**SUPER BOWL: SEAHAWKS LOST. PATRIOTS WON. NO MATH HOMEWORK FOR A WEEK! XD**

**REVIEWS ARE APPRICIATED!**


	5. Drawing 4

**So, I'm a back! I had a lot of school stuff to do (more like high school crap) and to finish up my Model United Nations project. Who knew Denmark was so hard to write for?!**

**This would've been out yesterday, but the wind knocked out the power (and the wifi). So, here it is now!**

**I'm still completely blown away by the reception this story is getting, though. Seriously...For AU's, its pretty hard for me to make it this far. Thanks!**

**Orangetabby101: This will be continued! In fact, I'm taking on two fanfics at once! I never do this! **

**Jean Sumar: I wanted to draw out the main four's meeting, but I was tired, and I wanted the chapter done and over with. So, it turned out to be rushed. However, I'm glad you liked it!**

**Daughteroftheabyss: Even better, my math teacher canceled our math exam! (she's a Patriots fan...XD)**

**Guest-chan: Thank you very much for your wonderful completments! And, for your question about the other's and possible supernatural abilities...can't say ;)**

**Espranz: When you find out that all the demons you saved wasn't fiction, anybody would be worried. **

**Natsuki D.: Your update has arrived!**

**Disclaimer: Katsura Hoshino's. Not mine. If it were, Chaoji would be dead.**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxX**

"So, where are you from?"

Glancing up from his 'large' meal, Allen looks over at the dark-haired girl across the table who sat quietly with a smile on her face.

The girl's name was Lenalee, and she was to show Allen around the rest of the hospital, as well as to go over any sort of disciplinary rules or actions the hospital would take.

Komui had said when he dropped Allen off at his room that his younger sister would show the young boy. But, after comparing Lenalee to Mr. Komui, Allen could barely see the resemblance at all! In fact, it was hard to even see the two as siblings!

But, after Allen passed that part of the hype, his first stop on his tour was the cafeteria, considering that he hadn't eaten anything all morning. His stomach was rumbling the entire morning, and luckily Lenalee had heard it when she was starting to show the boy around.

Now, they sat in the cafeteria on the second of four floors of the hospital, Allen chowing down on a handful of different foods with the poor, pigtailed girl watching patiently as food went flying

Luckily for the two of them, the cafeteria was barren, except for a handful of adults cleaning and the occassional last-minute eater.

"Whruere ahrm fhrum?" Allen reitterates, lowering his third bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch to get a better look at Lenalee.

The asian girl nods her head, smiling. "I'm from China; so is Brother. Lavi was dropped off here by an old man a few years ago. Kanda...well...no one really knows his past...You were previously staying somewhere, right?" she asks.

Allen swallows his food, answering the girl's question. "I...came from an orphanage nearby..." he replies quietly, his head lowering slightly in shame.

Seeing how the boy was reacting, Lenalee frowns. She didn't mean to make him feel uncomfortable. She was just trying to get to know him, especially since Kanda pulled out his 'Mugen' and threatened the poor kid seconds after seeing his face.

"I'm sorry," the girl quickly apologizes, bowing her own head. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Noticing Lenalee's sudden withdrawl, Allen quickly starts worrying. "N-No! Its alright! I've just...never had a conversation this long with someone besides Ms. K in a long time..." the snow-haired boy exclaims, waving his hands try and stop the girl from becoming any more upset.

"Really?"

"Yeah...this is the first conversation I've had with anyone my age in a couple years..."

"...Are your serious?"

"Yep."

Allen goes back to his food, chowing into a hefty pile of pancakes before Lenalee brings up another topic to fuel their on-going conversation.

"I saw you drawing when Lavi, Kanda and I came back from breakfast," the dark-haired girl starts. "What was it?"

Allen freezes, mid-bite. What he drew? If anyone found out...especially one of his new roommates, he could easily be removed from the hospital! His new home...

The idea of living on the streets haunted Allen; it truely did. He had already done that for a good amount of his life, living with Mana as a sort of traveling street performer/ clown in the traveling circus.

It was when the circus was in London that the crash happened. Allen was only six years old at the time, but the memories stung like that of a wasp. His father's distant gaze...his body broken in half...the taxi driver's gorged skull...

It was the crash that killed his father was when little Allen saw his first demon. Not to long after, when the police were talking to the truck driver responsible for the deadly crash, the little boy had seen two demons hovering around the driver like shields.

Of course, when he tried to point them out, everyone mistook him as a little boy forever scarred by his father's death right in front of him.

From then on, Allen saw them wherever he went. Even at the orphanage, Allen saw them. Ms. K, however, had no demons surrounding her, which was good for Allen at the time.

When he arrived at the hospital and Komui was leading Allen upstairs, to his room, they passed by rooms of people. Some had one or two demons surrounding them. Most had zero. One woman had three demons.

"...Allen?"

Hearing Lenalee asking for him, Allen snaps out of his thoughts that were spiraling out of control and back to the present and the question at hand.

"What...my drawings are?" he reitterates, trying to procrastinate to develop an answer.

The pigtailed girl nods her head.

"W-Well...uh...I, kinda sort...draw...um...stuff..."

Lenalee frowns. "What stuff?"

"I-I-I can show you later! Y-Yeah..."

That response lights a new fire in the asian girl's eyes.

"Really?!"

"I-I guess..."

Allen quickly regretted his previous words. He NEVER showed ANYONE his drawings after he started fighting the demons in his dreams and sketching them out. EVER. Not even Ms. K did.

Last time he did, however, the poor boy almost got his arm burnt off.

So, how would Lenalee react?

Would she try to kill him too?

Like the other kids did?

Well...maybe she was different...

Maybe she and Lavi and that idiot Kanda were all different...

That's why he was sent to Rose Cross...

Maybe Lenalee could see demons too?

Could Lavi?

Could idiot Kanda?

"Neh, Lenalee," Allen says quietly, looking down at his last bowl of oatmeal nervously. He was debating to even ask the girl if she saw demons. If she didn't...how would that make him seem? He just came a hour ago, after all. He didn't want to be stereo-typed before even staying a night. "Why were you sent here?"

The twin-tailed girl lets out a sigh, and starts to twiddle her thumbs as she thought of an answer. It was obvious, just with a look at her expression, that the topic Allen had brought up was something she didn't like to discuss.

"If I tell you, you can't tell anyone else, okay? Lavi and Kanda know..."

"I won't tell a soul."

Hearing Allen's secure promise, Lenalee sighs again. She brushes her bangs back behind her ear, an action showing how nervous this topic made her.

"When I was in China...when I slept...my brother claimed that I often spoke in my sleep. He also claimed that cried, yelled, and even injured myself while asleep."

"I knew the reason why I did those things in my sleep. In my dreams...I saw terrible things. If I cried in my dreams, I cried in real life. Every emotion I felt happened while I slept. And, sometimes...if I got injured...I got injured in real life."

"My father was killed by a suicide bomber while helping refugees in the Middle East. My mother died from a diesese she inherited from my grandfather. After that, I came here..."

Lenalee trails off, her lower lip bitten as she grabs her white dress she had on with anger, the fabric bunching up. Seeing the girl's distress, Allen decides to take up the discussion.

"The orphanage I came from wasn't too far from here..." the boy starts, pushing his trays of food aside so he could the pigtailed girl completely. "I stayed there for almost five years..."

"I arrived there when I was seven. At first, I stayed with the other kids my age. I got along with them fine. But, for some reason, they decided that my left arm, the one that was deformed when I was born-"

Allen lifts up his left arm, places it on the table, and pulls up his coat's sleeve, revealing the mangled, scarred limb to the girl across from him.

"The other kids used it as a way to bully me. They always did the occassional name-calling, teasing, exclusion. I got used to that. But...one day..."

Allen gulps, covering his arm again. He was still debating on whether or not to tell the girl about his demon-fighting dreams. Well, at this point, Allen wasn't very sure that his dreams were dreams...

"The kids decided to burn my arm."

Fright darts across Lenalee's face quickly, but Allen didn't notice since he continued on with his shorter, altered story.

"It was on fire for a good two minutes before Ms. K, the newest nurse to be hired, noticed. She put it out, and helped to bandage it, something none of the other nurses and staff would do. I was then sent to the orphanage's attic as a sort of 'quarentine'. From there, I spent the last four years in a musty, leaking, attic. Ms. K was my only attachment to the world; she brought me my meals and helped bandage me up when I broke the rules and tried to get some fresh air when the other kids were outside."

"At the orphanage, the rule was that if you weren't adopted by age 12, you would be forced somewhere else, which was normally the streets. My 12th birthday's in six days...it was pretty much a miracle that your brother, Mr. Komui, allowed me to stay here."

Allen finishes his story, smiling meekly as he removed his arm from the table and back underneath it, where no one could see it, even with his coat rolled over it.

"I guess we've both had our experiences with hell already," Lenalee mutters, putting on her own brave face.

XxXxXxxXXxXx

The day continued pretty orderly.

Allen learned his way around the third and fourth floors of the hospital (Lenalee said the first and second were off-limits to the kids, sans the cafeteria), and was given an idea of what exactly Lavi, Lenalee, and Kanda did everyday at a hospital like Rose Cross, especially since they weren't patients. There was a separate wing for child patients.

Everyday, the trio got up, ate breakfast, helped out around the hospital with any job they had, and acted like normal kids their age. Of course, Kanda often spent a lot of his time in a single, small room on the fourth floor at the end of the last hallway. Lenalee said that was where there was a 'weight room' for patients who wanted to work out.

By the end of the day, after dinner, Allen got the vibe that his new three roommates were all normal orphans. Yes, Lenalee has some...odd occurances, and when he asked Lavi, Lavi didn't really reply-

(Allen didn't ask Kanda...he didn't want to bother an idiot with a question that was out of his thought capacity)

But, as they were sitting in the bedroom that night, each of the four lamps on as the sun was far past dusk, Allen couldn't help but smile as he continued his drawing he had started that day.

This was his new life.

It was going to be quiet.

Nothing was going to happen.

He was normal now.

Sure, he had his weird dreams and his secret ability to see demons, but as long as Allen didn't tell anyone, no one would know...

But, what Allen didn't see as he drew was the head-nodding Kanda was doing towards Lavi, and then towards Lenalee.

The ginger then proceeded to pull out a notebook of his own, taking a pen from his small stash, and write something on the paper. He rips it out, folds it up, and places it in his hand.

"Hold on guys, gotta take a waz..." Lavi announces, hoping up from his bed and waltzing over to the bathroom with the paper hidden in his hand.

"Nice story, baka-usagi," Kanda mumbles sarcastically, keeping his eyes glued on his second sword.

Kanda had two swords; a practice, wooden one, and a real, steel one. Currently, the dark-haired teen was testing the real one's edges, running his hand along the blade.

Allen, still focused on his work, rolls his eyes at Kanda's comment. Lenalee, however, just lets out a sigh as she continues reading her book, titled 'The Young Elites'.

The room remained pretty quiet then after, sans Lavi's flushing of the toilet, water-running, and failed singing.

Within the silence, Allen just sat and watched as his picture slowly came together, thinking about all of the fun times he could end up having with his roommates.

Correction- Acquantinces.

He wasn't exactly friends with the trio yet; especially since he didn't know much about them. Allen knew that it would take a while for them to truely become his one wish...

friends.

XxXxXxXx

But, little did Allen know his world was about to be changed that night. And for the worst.

XxXxXxXX

**So, its a short, talky-chapter. I promise, next chapter, action will be involved. As well as explanations and lots of other stuff.**

**Now tell meh ya opinions! Your opinions matter, and they will determine of this story continues or not!**

**Thanks! See ya!**


	6. Drawing 5

**Hello! I'm back!**

**This story is my second most popular story I've written. Its beating out my other work-in-progress, Gray Zone, by about 1,000 views. MIND BLOWN.**

**I still can't get over the title. When I was writing the first chapter, I was putting my idea down. But, then I got stuck with how Allen would pass time while quarantined. So, then the idea of him drawing popped into my head, and I wrote that down. When I went to release the intro, I didn't know what to call it...and since Allen drew demons...**

**Well, you know how it turned out!**

**Enough with the history!**

**tenkoku: Allen eventually warms up to everyone...(which means everyone but Kanda) XD**

**chuchay1903: Updates are sparatic: whenever I update my other work-in-progress Gray Zone, I update this story next. It goes back and forth.**

**Natsuki D.: Update, right here!**

**Meep: Its not the 'worst'...like Allen dying or something. But, its this chapter that causes his life to spiral out of control.**

**Guest: You are now Guest-chan. Remember that.**

**kittylover195678: Okay...chappie's right here...calm yo jets...**

**Dislciamer: Katsura Hoshino's. Not mine. If it were...Chaoji would be dead.**

**NOW READ**

**XxXxXxxXxXxXxXxXx**

Feeling the wind blow by, his eyes quickly snap open.

It always took a few seconds for Allen to adjust after arriving in his 'dream world'. After all, it was weird going from a eye level of 4'10 to one of 5'4 so suddenly.

The second Allen's normal body fell asleep, he would wake back up in his older one, the one that fought the demons head on. And, usually, he would appear on the roof of whatever building he had fallen asleep in in the first place.

So, now a fifteen-year-old Allen Walker was on top of Rose Cross Mental Hospital's roof.

As another gust of wind whistles by, the white-haired teen reaches back behind him and pulls up the hood of the coat he had on.

The coat he wore, a black trench coat of sorts with white stripes, white shoulder pads and cuffed sleeves, and silver buttons, was something Allen had worn from the first night he started having these odd 'dreams'. He didn't know why; but, no matter what condition it was in the previous night, it would appear the next night pristine and brand new.

But, in this case, the coat helped by keeping the wind from freezing the boy to death, and the hood was going to keep his head warm as well.

Running to the edge of the roof, all the white-haired teen was thinking about now was the news report that he had seen earlier that day. The words kept echoing in his head;

'Over 28 murders...in the London vicinity alone.'

28 deaths...that couldn't be right...

Allen never killed anyone!

Was he really in some sort of other body, acting as if he were another person? Or...was it really all just a dream, like he knew it as?

"Either way, I have a job to do..."

Hoisting himself over the edge of the roof, Allen jumps, falling the four stories before landing gracefully at the ground.

Perk number one to his older body: some pretty sweet athletic abilities. He could jump from roof to roof of buildings, and evern from the roofs and onto the ground and walk away with nothing but ruffled hair. How sweet was that?

Quickly, before he could be spotted by anyone in the hospital, Allen starts running away from the building until he reached the street, where he took a sharp right and continued his pace until the building was no longer in sight. If this was all truly real, he couldn't risk the possibility of being spotted, especially since he'd already been caught on camera at least once.

More wind rustles, causing Allen to grab at his coat for warmth. He walks down the street in silence, the only company he had were the lamps that lit the sidewalk ahead of him, fidgeting with his white gloves to cover his hands the best of his ability and trying to blend in with the few people who were still out and about during the night.

This was normally how Allen's nights went for him. He would walk around the nearby area, looking for any demons who decided to show their faces. When he found one, he would quickly make due of it with a swipe of his left arm.

Plus number two of older body: deformed left arm is now a kick-ass weapon.

Oh what use it would have been when he resided at the orphanage...

Suddenly, Allen's sight changes from the colorful world he normally saw and into one of black and white, as if her were in one of those old movies. However, when the black-and-white appeared, that meant there was a demon not for far from him.

One of the negatives about his older body: all of Allen's ability to see demons was pressed into one eye, where on top of it sat an odd, red scar.

Above his eye, a pentacle sat, leading down his face until it takes a sharp underneath his eyelid, and continued down. It was...peculiar for one thing...it made Allen look even more like a sore thumb than he already did. Luckily, only his older body had the scar, and in the cases of usage and appearance, it was a good thing it wasn't on his normal body.

With his left eye, Allen saw the demons, but only when the eye activated, which was when a demon was nearby. And, when the eye activated, everything became a monochrome black and white.

Suddenly, out walks a young couple from a store across the street, the girl with her arms wrapped around her boyfriend. Both were laughing together, keeping near each other to stay warm as the wind blew by again.

However, in an instant, the backs of the couple burst open, and from them rise two large machines of sorts. Wires came pouring out, reforming themselves along with large plates of metal. Large cannons formed on them both, sticking out from the machines like a porcupine's needles Finally two white masks, one for each person, slide into place in the front of each machine, with expressions of sorrow and weary showing.

The two machines immediatly catch the eye of the few people still out and about, as well as the nearby Allen. These were the demons his eye had picked up on.

Normally, a person had to have five demons surrounding them to turn into the machines in front of Allen now. And, when a person did turn into one of the machines, their normal soul was overtaken by the demons corrupting it, and chained up. In this case, when Allen looked at these people-demons- he saw the normal soul, covered in chains and crying. The demons inside their soul were free, there was nothing that could be done.

But, that was why Allen was there.

To the the solution to the problem.

With no hesitation, especially with people around, Allen removes his left hand's glove and places it in his coat pocket. He steps off of the sidewalks, and starts walking straight towards the demons.

Immediatly, they spot the teen and aim their cannons, shooting purple bullets so fast it looked impossible to dodge.

The bullets the demons fired were deadly; each was liced with a poison that once a human was hit, it would invade the body and kill the person within a minute. So, it had to be assured that when Allen fought a demon, he couldn't be near many civilians, if any.

Dodging each bullet with what seemed to be ease, the boy jumps up into the air, above the shooting range.

"Sacred cross that dwells within me," the white-haired teen starts, the top of his hand glowing an eerie green that leaps up to his shoulder. "Grant me the power to destroy this evil darkness!"

With that, the green light engulfs Allen's entire left arm, transforming it into a large, white iron-like claw easily double the length of his normal arm, with a sole green flame sitting between his arm and his body.

In the distance, the snow-haired boy hears police sirens sounding. Great.

Falling back towards the Earth, Allen quickly slices through a single demon, destroying it with a firey explosion as he lands safely on the ground. The few civilians that had been in the area were now gone; hiding in nearby shops for safety. One, Allen supposed, called the cops in.

Even though Allen had little knowledge of the police force, besides sending people to jail, he knew that having the cops called in was a bad thing. Even worse, this confirmed the news reporter's story about how Allen, in a broad view, was actually a murderous criminal.

Turning quickly just as the remaining machine opens fire, the snow-haired teen jumps backwards, narrowly missing the lethal bullets. Again, Allen jumps into the air and swings his claw down onto the machine; destroying it as he had destoryed its twin.

And just as the fuzz came.

Man, do they travel fast or what?

Car after car pull out a single line, almost surrounding the teen, who was now standing in the middle of the street with a large claw as his arm, with large, bulky cars. Two human bodies, the ones of the couple, lay on the ground, puddles of blood pouring from their backs and pooling around the corpses.

The flashing blue-and-red lights almost blind the boy, as every available officer stepped out of their car with weapons, mostly guns, drawn. As a sort-of reflex, Allen pulls the hood on his head over, until only his mouth could be seen.

"Put your hands in the air!" one officer barks, motioning with his head for Allen to follow his request. "You are under arrest!"

Hearing that line throws Allen for a loop. "E-Excuse me?" he ponders politely.

"Hands up! Now!" another officer orders. "Or say hello to a bullet in your head!"

The teen still remains confused as even more cars pull up around the already-large circle of vehicles. They were really out to arrest him. "W-What? I-I didn't do anything!" Allen cries, complying with the law enforcement and slowly raising his hands into the air.

"You just killed an innocent couple!"

Hearing that, Allen freezes. He didn't kill them! All he did was...

But, just as the police men closest to Allen lower their guns, a handful of demons sprout up from other policemen's backs, turning into more of the cursed machines. The snow-haired boy's curse activates again, allowing him to see the souls of the humans crying as demons took them over.

However, none of the other police men notice.

Instead, the demons start shooting round after round of their deadly bullets towards the officers, who just start falling one after another, dead, on the road.

Without a second thought, Allen turns to launch himself back towards the machines, but is instead stopped by more cops, with their guns aimed at the center of his head.

"What are you doing?" the teen questions angrily, trying to find a way past the sea of law enforcement. "Your men are dying; I can save them!"

"Shut your trap! You're the one killing them!"

Again, the sudden accusations jumble up Allen's mind. What were these men talking about? Allen never killed anyone! He destoryed the demons! And, how come no one noticed the three now killing more officers?

What was going on? This hadn't happened any other night!

(Sure, Allen had run into the law enforcement a few times back when he was at the orphanage. But, they didn't accuse him of murder like these men were.)

Deciding that disobeying the law would be less of a penatly then not saving lives, Allen pushes past the wall of officers with his left arm, swooping them aside like a broom. However, as the white-haired teen starts to run towards the demons, something else smashes into the side of one of the machines, and causes it to explode on impact.

From there, a something- a person, Allen realized- lands on the road safely, and not surrounded by law enforcement. The teen could only make out small details, with all of the men blocking his line of sight, but from what he did see, it was a teenaged girl who wore the same black coat as him.

Was she the one who destroyed that demon?

"What'cha doing? Day-dreaming?"

A hand is placed on Allen's shoulder, and he jumps, turning around to look at the person who had spoken.

It was another teen, at least around the age of eighteen, with vibrant red hair held up with a black and green bandana of sorts, and an eyepatch over his right eye, leaving only a single green one. However, one thing Allen did notice right off the bat; he wore the black coat as well.

"W-Who...What..." Allen stutters, trying to figure out how this guy had sudden appeared behind him, seeing the small hammer that sat in his right hand. However, in a swift motion, the ginger grabs Allen's good arm with a large smile on his face.

Suddenly, the cops notice the newcomer standing behind Allen, his face completely exposed as bullet points are aimed straight for the center of the ginger's forehead. But, the eyepatched teen doesn't freeze, or start to panic. Instead, he just raises his hammer calmly above his head. With that action, the small black weapon lengthens slightly, the handle touching the road as the mallet grew to balance out the weight.

"Now, hold tight, moyashi!" the ginger exclaims, grinning as he mocked Allen's height. But, before the white-haired, hood-covered teen could say a single word in his defense, the ginger pushes his right hand onto the handle of the hammer.

"Wait! I have to save the officers!" Allen exclaims, motioning to the two remaining machines that were shooting. However, they weren't shooting at the policemen. Instead, they were shooting at two other targets, targets that were moving pretty quickly since each dodge all of the bullets.

"Don't worry," the pirate-like teen boy replies casually, "Strike and Illusion can handle themselves."

"Who...?"

And, instead of getting an answer, Allen is jerked upward and into the air as the hammer's handle starts to extend into the night sky. Slowly, the handle turns, hanging over the roof of of the buildings that were lining the street. The hooded teen falls onto the roof, followed by bandana boy, who grabs the hammer and lets it shrink back down to its original size. And, just as Allen is about ask another question, the ginger starts pushing the younger teen towards the back of the roof, removing his hood as well.

Police lights shine up to the roof, but not to where the two teens currently stood. With that, the officers come together to start worrying about their injured and how to track down the boy who had murdered their colleague right in front of them.

"Man, that was risky," the ginger perks up, scratching the back of his head as he shakes his head, scolding Allen for his actions. "Thank goodness the Order gave you a hood..."

"The Order?"

The ginger raises an eyebrow. "Yeah..the Order? The Black Order?"

Hearing that title, Allen shakes his head. "Never heard of." To be honest with himself, Allen didn't really know much. Heck, he still didn't really understand the concept of an 'iPhone'!

The older teen deadpans.

"How are you an exorcist when you haven't even met with the Black Order?"

Allen freezes. 'Exorcist'? That was a new word.

But, before the white-haired teen could even open his mouth to ask, the ginger shushes him. "Wait on the questions, will ya?" he remarks. "Since your so lost, the three of us will explain everything to you. But for now, we need to meet back up with Strike and Illusion."

"As long as you explain this whole 'Strike and Illusion' situation," Allen bargains. Sure, he could save his questions. But, this was the second time this guy mention a 'Strike and Illusion'. Were they Ginger Pirate's commrades? Or some sort of special police force?

"Fine.." Ginger Pirate sighs, giving into Allen's small bargain. "'Strike and Illusion' are just shortened names for Soaring Strike and Dark Illusion. Both are exorcists, just like you and I. However, they are just codenames. At this point, just call me Iron Hammer. What should I call you?"

"Ah, well, I don't have a codename of sorts," Allen starts, shrugging his shoulders. "So, just call me Allen Walker."

Ginger Pirate, or Iron Hammer as he prefered to be called, nods his head, taking in Allen's name. However, he stops, and his eyes widen.

"No way...Allen...that's you?"

The snow-haired teen frowns, cocking his head to the side slightly. "Um...yeah?" he replies, confused on what Iron Hammer was asking.

"Oh, wow! That explains why you were brought to the hospital!" Hammer exclaims, agreeing with himself as he thought out loud.

However, when Allen hears Hammer bring up 'the hospital', he quickly freezes. "Hospital? You...are staying at Rose Cross?" he asks nervously.

"Yep! Can't you recognize me?"

Like lightening, Allen realizes who was now standing across from him.

"LA-LAVI!?

**XxXXxXXxxXxXxXxX**

**Also, I now have a poll on my profile. If you read this, I'd appriciate if you voted. I'm debating on creating a Deviant art for fanfic drawings. I'll even try to post my fanfics on there as well.**

**Reviews are appriciated! If its crap, tell me!**


	7. Drawing 6 (sorry, short chappie)

**HOLY CRAP**

**You all really, truly, love this story! I...don't even know what to say!**

**I should say this now: when I write, I skip over words. Don't know why...I just do. So, if I do, tell me and I'll go back and edit it. I have spell check, but not grammer check.**

**lovestotoro: Wow, thank you! And, sorry for breaking your heart...**

**XHikariSoraX: I update whenever I get around to writing it (that means an update within 1-15 days..at the latest)**

**kittyluv2000: Thank you! And, the Noahs' whole 'alter-ego' thing will happen eventually. Why Allen and co. have the alter-ego thing going on will be explained, as with why they have to be asleep.**

**StarAngel7169: Allen showing his friends his drawings may happen...haven't thought about that actually...**

**kurie-tibiti: Here's your more!**

**Natsuki D.: *starts to tear up* Red...he would just start laughing his butt off...*cries***

**kittylover195678: It's alright to be excited! I'm glad your excited!**

**Sora Rider X: I was debating on making Ginger Pirate Lavi's 'codename' that. I decided against it since I wanted the names to be serious. But...it'll pop back up eventually.**

**orangetabby101: I'm glad this makes you very happy! Now, I truly hope this isn't the reason you're living...if it were, I would send a bunch of air hugs. DON'T DIE ON MEEEEEEEEEE**

**Alexis-senpai: I KNOW! Allen as an adorable 11 year old would be so cute I could burst! And, if it isn't, fangirlism SHOULD be a word.**

**NeonBlackRoseRevived: Ah, well thank you! I appriciate your encouragement!**

**Anime. watcher524: Hopefully your cliffy-fullfilment will fullfiled here.**

**Disclaimer: Katsura Hoshino's. Not mine. If so...Chaoji would be DEAD.**

**XxXxXxXxXxx**

Who knew the police in this part of London were so...

What was the word?

Antsy?

No...

Out-for-blood?

Yes...

At this point, cars patroled the streets of London, sirens muted for the sake of the sleeping citizens, but lights still flashing their blinding hues. And, even from the top of a building, they could been seen for what seemed to be miles.

Now back on top of the hospital, Allen now found himself pacing across the roof, waiting patiently for a 'Strike and Illusion' to show up. According to Lavi, who was just like Allen with this sort-of 'alternate' self, this 'Strike and Illusion' were actually Lenalee and Kanda, something that the snow-haired teen hadn't even thought of.

All three of them were like him...?

Except, the only part Allen wasn't understanding was when Lavi mumbled about this 'Black Order', or when he mentioned 'exorcists' and 'Innocence'. The word 'Akuma' even came up once. They all sounded so foreign to Allen.

Well, so did a iPhone.

Pushing that thought aside, Allen returns to his constant, unrelenting walking. Lavi, or 'Iron Hammer' as he was refered to for some reason, had said that the three did this every night, just as Allen had. They often used the hospital as their meeting place on the occassion one of them got lost, so that was why Lavi led Allen back to where he had started.

Suddenly, a large gust of wind blows by again, causing both teens to immediatly pull their coats closer to their bodies. However, this time the wind had a source, who was slowly flying up to the top of the mental hospital.

"Lavi!" a small whisper erupts as the pig-tailed girl Allen saw smash into the side of the Akuma floats in the air a few feet from the roof. She also carried a single passenger: another older teen with dark (blueish) hair tied in a ponytail, bearing the black coat all four teens had on.

The girl wore the black coat all four of the teens had, along with a white belt keeping up a short black skirt with a light blue layer underneath. On her legs were large boots, with green flares streaking up them.

Almost immediatly, Allen recognizes Kanda through the shadow of night. The white-haired teen groans quietly, angered by the fact that HE had to be included in this whole buisness.

"Lenalee!" Lavi exclaims, immediatly recognizing the flying girl and standing up from his thinking state. "What took you two so long?"

The pig-tailed girl, who Allen now recognized as Lenalee, lets Kanda down on the roof first before landing gently on the roof herself. A small patch of wind blew, enough to toss around each teen's hair and coats, which circulated from the girl's large black boots.

"Chase." was Kanda's simple-worded response, answering the question Lavi had put out. However, that one word did the trick, and the ginger's shaking his head worriedly. "Who's the newbie?"

"Oh, him?" Lavi replies casually, pointing towards Allen over his shoulder. "Its-"

But, before he could even get his reply out, Lenalee steals his thunder, looking over the pirate's shoulder and noticing the snow-haired teen standing behind him. Her eyes widen, and she quickly rushes past the two older teens and to the youngest.

"Allen!" she exclaims, grabbing the boy's hands suddenly, causing Allen to blush slightly in embaressment. Luckily, the shadow of night hid any possiblity of anyone seeing his cheeks red.

"H-Hey, Lenalee!" he replies, flashing a uncertain smile. Looking past the girl, Allen glares daggers at Kanda. "BaKanda."

"Che," said dark-haired teen spats, sending the same glares back at Allen. "Why did the moyashi have to be an accomodator?"

There was that 'accomodator' word being thrown around again. Did that represent something, or was it a codeword for something? At this point, Allen was just clueless.

"Its Allen," the snow-haired teen responds to Kanda's nickname. "And, would someone please explain this whole 'accomodator' thing? And the Black Order? What is it?"

This angers Kanda even more than he already had been. "And you don't even know what the Black Order is..." he starts, his voice starting to get louder as his sentence dragged on.

"Hey!"

Suddenly, Lenalee is the one who glares, staring deathly at Allen with a single finger over her lips. "The police are going to have this place surrounded before we can even get started!" she mutters quietly, but loud enough for Allen and Kanda to both hear. They nod their heads, understanding what she meant, but giving each other dirty looks still.

Lenalee lets go of Allen's hands and turns to face Lavi, creating a sort of circle between the four teens.

"We don't have time to get the entire story out you, but we can give you the shortened version. Is that alright, Allen?" Lavi starts as more wind starts blowing by again, tossing his long orange scarf behind him. He looks towards the newest recruit, waiting for an answer.

"A little is better than none," Is the hooded teen's response casually.

"Alright then," the ginger continues, sucking in a deep breath before spilling the beans. "First off, this hospital isn't exactly what it seems."

Allen nods his head. At his point, he couldn't really deny this fact. After all, what mental hospital has four orphans living there without any brain problems at all? Of course, Allen hadn't even realized this until Lavi even mentioned the fact.

"This," Lenalee picks up, "Is actually the headquarters of the Black Order." She folds her arms across her chest, looking over at Allen as well. "The Black Order is a worldwide organization that was formed to stop the Millennium Earl, a man bent on destroying the world."

The youngest teen's eyes widen. Destroying the world? He'd read books about aliens coming to take over the Earth and those utopia societies while confined in the orphanage (he found a handful of good books in the stash that took up most of the attic), and Ms. K had talked about the 'world was supposed to end in 2012'. But, he never thought that anything like that was real...

Well, no one believed him when he talked about demons. At this point, all bets were off.

"The Earl creates Akuma, the machines we all see and destroy, and is slowly building an army of them. By using them, he's slowly ridding the human race from the inside out. And, there's no way civilians can stop the Akuma..."

Akuma? Allen would have to ask for a better explanation later.

"Except for accomodators. Accomodators can wield Innocence, which counters the materials inside an Akuma and destroys them, to put it simply."

"The three of us all wield Innocence, and that's why we were brought to this hospital. You were brought here too, probably for that reason."

Did that mean Ms. K knew about all of this when she found out about the hospital? But...she seemed friendly with Mr. Komui...Allen would have to wait to ask again. Ugh, to much waiting was starting to bother him.

"To sum it all up," Kanda was speaking now. "We destroy demons with stupid fucking 'codenames'."

Yep. Definately Kanda.

He really wasn't happy about those codenames, was he? Score for Allen: one more way to get under his skin!

"Ah, c'mon Yu! We all agreed to it!" Lavi whines slightly, pulling out his annoying card as well. Kanda scowls, pulling out a sword (his weapon?) and aiming at Lavi's neck.

"Shut it, baka usagi." he hisses angrily, another thing he hated to be called by.

"Kanda, it's for the better good. If we get caught, no one will recognize us," Lenalee starts, trying to sway the samurai into putting away his very-much sharpened sword. "And, if we're seen-"

"We don't have to say our names, yada yada yada," he growls, putting his sword back in his sheath.

"Hey, Allen needs one now!" Lavi realizes, pointing towards said teen like he had something on his face (besides his scar).

The white-haired boy freezes. "Eh?"

"Yeah! We can't call you just 'Allen'!" Lenalee jumps on the hype train, smiling as she started thinking of possible names.

"Can't we call him _moyashi_?" Kanda mutters, grinning slightly. At this suggestions, Lavi nods his head in agreement, causing Allen to groan slightly. He definately didn't want to be known as beansprout all the time.

"No..."

Cue sigh of relief.

Lenalee then just starts staring at the boy, her mind slowly whirling around. Suddenly, she lights up, and smiles.

"How about Gray Claw?" she suggests. "His hair's gray, and his Innocence his that large claw..."

All the guys frown.

"Well, wait, hold on a second," Lavi remarks, going up to the white-haired boy and brushing his bangs aside that hid the upper part of his scar. This reveals the large pentacle sitting above his eye.

Both Lenalee and Kanda recognize it.

"A demon curse? Seriously _Moyashi_?" Kanda questions, shaking his head and muttering off some curses of his own.

"Hey! Why'd you show them?" Allen exclaims, shooing Lavi away, embaressed and angry. "What the heck was that for?"

"I just wanted to make a point, and I had to confirm something." is Lavi's response, crossing his arms and tilting his head into the air.

"By embaressing me?"

"Ne, Allen. I'm sure he didn't mean too..." Lenalee comforts, trying to calm the two down before it got worse. Allen lets out a sigh.

"What I'm trying to get at here was something for Allen's codename," Lavi starts to explain, lifting his pointer finger like he was a teacher. Kanda rolls his eyes, keeping his own arms crossed. "He has a curse...a demon curse..."

Hearing that jumbles Allen up completely. He was cursed? Is that what this mark was, ruining his face even more than his weird hair was? And on top of that, it was one of the demons who did it? How was this even making any sense?

"Demon...D..." Lenalee mutters. Silence settles between the group, with Lavi and Lenalee thinking, Kanda grumping in his little corner of darkness and gloom, and Allen just as confused as ever. What made it even weirder were the lights flashing all over the city.

Suddenly, the pig-tailed girl jumps up, slapping her hands together in excitement. "Got it!"

"He can be called the D. Gray-man!"

**XxXxxXx**

**Oh yeah, and I now have a Wattpad! I go as 'moyashi_midget' or 'The Moyashi', and have only published the prolouge of my other W.I.P, Gray Zone. Eventually, I'll upload this one, though. I also have another poll, so please give it a look over!**

**Thanks! Reviews are appriciated to tell me how crappy this is O O !**


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